


Jeeves and the Cupid's Bow

by Lady Monocle (curtangel)



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Cupid - Freeform, Cupid AU, F/M, Gen, Heteronormativity, Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curtangel/pseuds/Lady%20Monocle
Summary: Jeeves is literally Cupid.
Relationships: Marmaduke "Chuffy" Chuffnell/Pauline Stoker, Reginald Jeeves & Bertram "Bertie" Wooster, Rosie M. Banks/Richard P. "Bingo" Little
Kudos: 15





	Jeeves and the Cupid's Bow

**Author's Note:**

> Non-sexual  
> The idea popped into my head and this is how it came out.

One might wonder why a small segment of London's upper class got the attention of an ancient god like Cupid. The long explanation would involve manifestations, the philosophical implications of a god no longer being paid its dues and some advanced knowledge of the nature of Time. That sentence alone is enough to make most mortals a bit tired, so the short explanation will have to do: He was needed.

The rise of the serving class really couldn't have worked out better for the old gods to act out their duties than if they'd arranged it themselves. It was the perfect cover - you shimmer in do your work and shimmer out again without anyone wondering too deeply where one came from or where one was going. Cupid had been guided only by his own instincts for millennia and had developed a great desire to see more... orderly love. The bright light of two hearts that balanced each other through the tilt-a-whirl of life and made its twists and turns a joy. The manifestation known as Jeeves (as we'll now call him) tired of the messy sprawling chains of affairs that his previous incarnations had enjoyed. Orderly lines of monogamous couples were the thing his heart longed for. He had his bow and arrow but he no longer shot it for his own amusement - only as needed towards his aims. 

It was Rosie M. Banks that drew Jeeves to the world of one Bertram W. Wooster. He found a great deal of quiet amusement in the well written romance novels which he considered a minor form of worship. Miss Banks was a personal favorite. The gods still had some interest in mortals, even if mortals had no further interest in them. She had attracted the attention of the god of love and she would be rewarded. Jeeves hand picked Richard P. Little as the man who would make Miss Banks cheeks glow - the one who would encourage her to continue her work and the one who would indulge the love of her fantasies.

The choice of Bertie Wooster was tactical - a convenient outpost for him to keep an eye on Mr. Little and make sure that he remained single and to lay some of the spade work to make sure the young man didn't get disowned in the process. There were other fellows who would give her less grief if one took money out of the equation. 

It took pre-planning, a great deal of arranging and the calling in of favors both mortal and immortal to get the dominoes set up properly, but when they fell the results spoke for themselves. He only had to use the lead arrow once or twice to keep Mr. Little from marrying elsewhere and the love arrows were unneeded. One heart recognized its Affinity and vice versa almost immediately. Mr. and Mrs. Little melded together beautifully - together the two made a beautiful sunset. The whole matter was not only entertaining but satisfying.

Jeeves could make romance novels out of these mortals - he had an entire club of bachelors to use - and a quiver full of arrows that begged to be shot again.

Not that he shot them often - it felt like cheating. Only as a little boost when needed. Only as a last minute foil - when all other options failed. Usually a poor pairing didn't require such extreme measures. Love is a judgement - a weighing of one heart against another and finding the one that balances with a feather - most felt the unequal weight and only needed a bit rattling.

Jeeves decided to move on when he realized he had become rather fond of the young man who employed and even felt a bit guilty watching him sigh as he purchased another fish slice for yet another married friend.

It was unwise to become too attached to mortals - it was unwise to live too long with the same mortals. The power of the gods tended to... leak out in unpredictable ways. He'd already done more than he should - it was time to do right by the young man. Mr. Wooster was a difficult one to match - his soul was a vibrant yellow that didn't match well with the young women around him that tended towards violets and ochres. He needed someone who would not overwhelm him but would still challenge him - grow him. It took multiple trips to New York to figure out how to arrange an introduction to Pauline Stoker - glowing with a lovely peach. Not the perfect match - but she saw the young man with open eyes. She knew she would be as much mother as wife and accepted the trade as worth the money. Yet she would love him. Her beauty did the majority of the work on his end, but Jeeves did give in to the temptation to shoot him with the gold arrow the night that it seemed a proposal was imminent to give him that extra bit of pep.

The young man returned feverish and flushed with the news of his engagement. It would have appeared to mortals that he suffered from a mere mild cold. But Jeeves saw that it was something else. The arrow was being rejected. Not fully, of course but it happened - on occasion. Minor physical effects that would pass off harmlessly in a day or two. 

This was valuable information- Jeeves contacted a valet friend of his with the suggestion that he draw Dr. Glossop's attention to the engagement announcements and purchased the return tickets to London in anticipation of the engagement being shortly broken. It was not Miss Stoker that the young master's heart longed for. 

No, the young man had someone he felt attached enough to that he fought against the golden arrow and it was not Miss Stoker. Jeeves would make sure the young master would get the person of his choice even if he had to use every arrow in his quiver - from the lead that created hate to the steel that created an all consuming love.

The one problem was the young man's natural discretion. Even Jeeves had his limitations. He could see potential matches - he could see good matches, he could see bad matches. However, he could not see into the heart's every secret. No, in order to get the information he needed, he had to go see his mother.

* * *

If the household Mrs. Hudson managed were told she was a goddess they would have been unsurprised. She gave one the impression that she was condescending to allow the family to live in the household she managed. They might, however, have been more than a little surprised to find that the "handsome, well preserved" woman with the low bun and severe expression was the goddess of love. One could see her unconscious influence in the dozen or so children lined up like ducklings in frames on the mantelpiece. 

"Its not my kind of love." she said flatly in response to her son's inquiry. "You should find yourself a nice cosmopolitan gentleman, Reginald. One who will give you the worship you require. A fellow who loves a dozen girls a day like that Little fellow. Letting him get away because of some fool sentimental idea that you want to pair up the world was a foolish decision. You would have had him Devoted to you within the fortnight. Nothing is quite like the relationship between god and worshiper - even if it is only the one. In this household I am worshiped Wednesday and Saturday night at the ringing of ten by appointment."

Jeeves had heard it all before.

"I can manage my own worship, mother. I do not interfere in your choice of household, I beg you not to interfere in mine. I wish to reward the mortal with the partner of his choice and I need a name." Jeeves leaned in. "He fought off a gold arrow, Mother."

Her eyelash swayed lightly in the breeze - the most surprise she displayed.

"Not my kind of love." 

After some pressing she agreed to speak to "the mister" - her long-suffering husband the god of craftsmen. The family would have been perhaps more surprised to learn she was married to the deformed and strange groundsman than they would have been to learn she was a manifestation of Venus. It was an unfortunate prejudice against his deformed appearance that led them to believe that he was as deficient in the mind as he was to the eyes. They assumed he was some distant relation she kept on as a kindness to her (presumably) deceased husband.

For his part, he made sure the family always had the newest gadgets in versions that were often safer than the royal family's. They had an automobile that mysteriously held all fourteen members of the family and had room to fit one more when needed. Mrs. Hudson would always assure the family that Mr. Hudson's gadgets had been "looked at" - they took this to mean by a professional. She meant she had looked at it while Mr. Hudson showed it to her. He took some of the financial pressure of their many offspring off the family.

The deformed man glanced at him and without a word dug into a trunk, pulling out a banjolele.

"When he plays this," he held out the instrument to Jeeves, "he will play you his heart no matter what kind of love is in it."

Jeeves looked at the instrument in distaste.

"How do you expect me to get him to play this?"

"I make what is needed." the man replied.

* * *

When Bertie had announced his plan to begin playing the banjolele that night, Jeeves was ready.

Bertie played of his love for various Drones, boys in school, and his family (particularly the Travers, but his uncles and even Mrs. Gregson all got a moment). The reasons for these love songs varied from "Freddie paid back ten pounds" to "had a nice lunch with Nigel" to remembering the time his cousin Angela gave him her last piece of candy before a particularly long church service. He sang of Miss Stoker, on occasion, the flakes of gold from the arrow as visible to Jeeves as the dust in a sunbeam.

Bertie sang a rainbow of love for everyone he knew from the red of Mr. Little to various pumpkin oranges and lemon yellows, the occasional indigo and seafoam of his various faceless friends to the lilacs and taupes that tended to dominate in his family. It seemed that one of the effects of the instrument was that the player was drawn to play when they felt love - but no specific person stood out. One does not fight off an arrow for nothing.

Jeeves was brooding on the matter one night when he was particularly tired of listening to the plink plink plinking of the instrument when he saw gold. A song of worship. A prayer. He generally considered all love songs to be a form of worship in principle but it was different when it was... specific. This one was. Perhaps the banjolele gave it a little more juice. Jeeves knew what he needed to do. The boost the song of worship gave him allowed him to see how the chess pieces needed to be set - but not the game was to be played.

* * *

The mortal was still under the influence of the arrow. This was Important. Jeeves could still see its gold flecks in the man's eyes. Therefore the god of romance's play was primarily to get Miss Stoker and Mr. Wooster alone and allow the arrow to do its work. Miss Stoker was a practical woman with genuine affection for the young man. If he was... overzealous in his wooing, she would not only forgive his passion but even be moved by his ardor. 

To the god's surprise, the young man fought off the influence of the gold arrow again with relish.

It was then that Jeeves had to admit defeat - but how could it be defeat when Bertie positively glowed with the happiness of an answered prayer? When Miss Stoker and Lord Chuffnell came together in such complementary colors of indigo and peach?

Jeeves suddenly understood. It was the love of his friends that allowed him to fight off the arrow. The young man's love match was his life.

* * *

There are consequences of cohabiting with a god - especially a god of love. 

Jeeves had to work hard to keep his favorite mortal a bachelor - and being a god he had to demand the occasional.... sacrifice. The praise and worship was given freely. The episode with the banjolele seemed to have created the long term effect that the young man sang with happiness every time he felt love - songs of worship and praise that kept the god at the top of his game and having the most fun he'd had in millennia.

It didn't seem enough - to keep the god of love and romance's favorite nestled in a bachelor's life like a cat in its master's favorite chair. 

Until one day Jeeves was dusting and happened to glance at the young man in the mirror and saw the sunny yellow of the mortal against the golden rays of his own godhood. They were a good match. The god felt the young man's simple love and realized he'd found his Devotee. That was the day Jeeves told the young man that he was going to stay until he was no longer wanted.

Bertie sang a song of love and worship as the god performed his duties.

There are many kind of love and many ways to pair off. The god of love liked to keep things neat and tidy.


End file.
